


I haven't met the new me yet

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Dappled with the flickers of light [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: And Rachel deserves that, Cunnilingus, Episode: s04e07 The Barbecue, F/M, I can't believe I've created a relationship tag for the THIRD TIME, Jake's really good at celebrating bodies, POV Rachel, Past Patrick/Rachel, Rare Pairings, Vaginal Sex, mentions of smoking, why am I like this y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: The last time she had sex was the night Patrick left town — she’d gone out and gotten far too drunk and woke up the next morning in a stranger’s bed hating herself. This feels different, more deliberate; she’s pretty sure there are worse ways to kick-start getting over her ex-fiancé than a one night fling with a hot lumberjack-looking guy she’ll never see again.
Relationships: Jake (Schitt's Creek)/Rachel (Schitt's Creek)
Series: Dappled with the flickers of light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101032
Comments: 54
Kudos: 95





	I haven't met the new me yet

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a joke about how post-Barbecue Rachel deserved someone to celebrate her body that turned into a "one day I'll write that" that was buried somewhere deep on my WIP list in the knowledge that it's a pairing that will appeal to very few people... but then Evermore dropped and this song got me DEEP in my Rachel feelings, so here it is. If you do decide to give it a read, thank you! This is the third time I've had to create a relationship tag, why am I like this.
> 
> Also, this is effectively a prequel to a fic I'm writing for a friend's birthday later in the month, so... make of that what you will.
> 
> Title is from Taylor Swift.

What Rachel really wants right now is a cigarette.

It’s a surprising urge, considering she picked up the habit at university and quit soon after graduation. She quit for Patrick, actually; he never asked her to stop, but it was clear he didn’t love kissing her with the taste of ash on her tongue. So she kicked the habit, and apart from those first few weeks she’s never really wanted to take it up again since. 

Turns out maybe she shouldn’t have blamed the cigarettes for Patrick not wanting to kiss her.

She should feel relieved, right? Like everything makes sense with this new information? That’s what Patrick told her it felt like for him, after he sunk down on the end of the bed in her motel room and whispered _Rach, I’m gay_ — that everything clicked into place when he met this guy, that he didn’t know what he was missing until he found it.

And the thing is, he was her best friend first, and she’s happy for him. She _is._ But… it _doesn’t_ make everything make sense to her. Surely, surely she would have suspected? Okay, there was an instance or two when he couldn’t… but it’s not like that was _common,_ and there were times when she couldn’t get there either, her body and brain just not on the same page regarding what they wanted, so it was hardly a red flag.

In high school, her friend Bethany’s boyfriend always used to whine about his blue balls; Rachel had been so smug that Patrick wasn’t like that at all. He was polite and respectful and waited for her to be ready, and she’d thought she was _lucky._ And later, when they were adults, their sex life was good. 

Well, she thought it was good. Was it not good for him? She’s rewriting almost fifteen years in her head, trying to make her memories fit with what Patrick has told her.

No, it was good. She’s sure it was good. They tried things out together, could laugh at themselves when things didn’t go entirely to plan. And it seemed… she thought… she could have sworn Patrick _loved_ to eat her out; her legs hooked over his shoulders, his talented fingers stroking the outside of her thighs as she came over and over on his tongue.

Great. Now she’s heartbroken _and_ horny, which is hardly ideal.

All of a sudden the room is too hot, the walls too close; beads of sweat break out on the back of her neck and she can’t _breathe._ She grabs her room key off the nightstand and shoves it into her back pocket before stepping out the door, sucking the cool evening air into her lungs with relief.

“Hey, girl.”

The voice makes her jump; she turns to see Alexis slumped in the plastic chair outside room eight, annoyance written all over her features. At first Rachel assumes the annoyance is directed at her, but the greeting was warm enough, so maybe not?

“Hey.” She clears her throat. “What are you doing out here?”

“Ugh, my stupid brother has locked me out of our room while he sulks over—” Alexis cuts herself off, grimacing as she glances over at Rachel.

“Over Patrick.”

Alexis nods, fiddling with her necklace. “Yeah. Yup.”

“I’m sorry.” She glances at the door to room eight as if she can will it into opening. 

Alexis shrugs. “David’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop for, like, their entire relationship. It had to happen sometime.”

“Still.” _I’m in love with him, Rach,_ Patrick had said, wringing his hands as she’d stared at him and remembered all the times he’d said those words to her. _I haven’t told him yet, but I’m in love with him._ “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have— I didn’t mean to screw anything up.”

“Oh my god, you poor thing, of course you didn’t.”

She thinks Alexis would understand, if Rachel told her all the shit that’s swirling around in her brain right now. _How could he not tell me_ and _how could I not know_ and _it hurts that he talked to your brother before he talked to me_ and _it hurts that he didn’t **tell** your brother about me_ and _I kind of want to hate him and I’m mad that I can’t._ But she doesn’t, because of course Alexis’ loyalty in this whole messy situation is going to be to her brother first and foremost. 

But that doesn’t mean she has to sit in the room where the man she’s been in love with for literally half her life put the final nail in the coffin of their relationship and feel sorry for herself all night, does it?

“Alexis, is there somewhere to get a drink around here?”

* * *

Half an hour later she’s sitting in The Wobbly Elm, nursing a beer as she idly people-watches. It’s a Wednesday night and a tiny town, so it’s not exactly bustling — a couple of older guys in one corner looking a little worse for wear, and two guys closer to her own age playing pool on a table that looks like it’s seen better days. 

Despite herself, her eyes keep finding her way back to one of the pool players. He’s tall and well-built, with a close-cropped beard; he carries himself easily, joking with his friend, the flannel shirt stretching across his back as he lines up his next shot. When he stands up after sinking the ball easily, he turns around too quickly for Rachel to pretend she was looking elsewhere and their eyes meet. The smile he gives her isn’t quite cocky, though it’s close; it’s just confident, and confidence has always done something for her. She smiles back before picking up her beer, draining the last of it and trying not to grin around the neck of the bottle when his eyes drop to her throat as she does.

She’d forgotten how good it can feel, to flirt with a stranger across a… okay, this isn’t exactly a _crowded_ room, but still. Across a room. She doesn’t make any secret of watching as the guy and his friend finish up the game, the one she’s watching sinking the black easily with several of the stripes still on the table, and he hands his cue to his friend before striding over to the bar and leaning over to get the bartender’s attention.

“Another for me, please, Darlene, and…” he trails off and looks at Rachel expectantly.

“Rachel.”

“And whatever Rachel’s drinking as well.” 

“Thank you.” He towers over her where she’s still sitting on the barstool, but instead of being intimidating, it makes her breath catch in her throat. “Do I get a name, or just a beer?”

He holds out his hand. “Jake.”

“Nice to meet you, Jake.” He’s got a firm handshake, and the pads of his fingers are rough. She wonders if he’s a manual labourer of some kind; now he’s standing a little closer, shirt hanging open over an undershirt, she can see he’s certainly got the build for it. She accepts the fresh bottle from the bartender, waiting for him to take a sip of his before she does the same.

“So I’m assuming you’re not from around here.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow. “What makes you assume that?”

Jakes rakes his eyes up and down her body, a blatant move that somehow manages to make her feel desired instead of objectified. “I’m pretty sure I would have noticed you.”

Rachel laughs, trying to fight down the blush she can feel rising on her cheeks. “Well, you’re right. I’m just here for the night.”

A smirk softens the sharp edges of his jawline. “Guess we’ll have to make the most of your time here, then, won’t we?”

The last time she had sex was the night Patrick left town — she’d gone out and gotten far too drunk and woke up the next morning in a stranger’s bed hating herself. This feels different, more deliberate; she’s pretty sure there are worse ways to kick-start getting over her ex-fiancé than a one night fling with a hot lumberjack-looking guy she’ll never see again.

She leans forward a little. “Guess we will.”

* * *

They stumble into what she can only assume is Jake’s apartment in a frantic tangle, Rachel’s arms around his waist and his hands either side of her jaw as he kisses her like he wants to crawl inside her body. Her cardigan gets discarded somewhere near the front door, Jake’s flannel shirt dumped on top of it; her knees hit the bed at the same time Jake’s hands slip under her top, pulling it up and off before nudging her onto her back. She shimmies up the bed a little while he tugs his undershirt unceremoniously over his head and then his knees are between her legs, hands bracketing her hips as he kisses his way up her stomach until he hits the underwire of her bra. She expects him to go straight for it, but instead he trails rough hands up the sensitive sides of her waist, making her shiver.

“You’re beautiful.” The words are pressed into her sternum, the low rumble of his voice curling low and hot in her stomach even as her instinct to brush the words away kicks in.

“Me? Look at you.”

He nips lightly at the skin just under her bra and she gasps at the sharp sting, her hips bucking up involuntarily. “I’m far too busy looking at you.” His eyes are blazing, the uncomplicated want in them almost too much for her to bear. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come. I bet you’re fucking gorgeous.”

She closes her eyes and drops her head back on the bed, unable to maintain eye contact as the embarrassed flush creeps up her neck. “Oh my god.”

“Can I?” His hand is resting on the top of her fly, and _god,_ she wants.

“Please.”

He peels her jeans off carefully, climbing all the way off the bed rather than getting them caught up in an awkward tangle of fabric. Once he’s back on the bed Rachel finds herself shivering not from cold but from the sweep of his eyes over her. He kisses his way up her thigh, beard scraping deliciously against her skin; when his mouth reaches her panties he breathes hot over the damp patch that’s already formed there, and she surprises herself with the keening sound that bursts past her lips. Jake chuckles, his mouth still so close to where she wants it and _oh god,_ she’s going to spontaneously combust. He hooks both thumbs under the fabric of her underwear and looks up at her with a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes, god, please.” She lifts up her hips so he can pull them off more easily, his hands achingly gentle on her legs even as he tugs them off and flings them somewhere behind him. Rather than settling back where he was straight away he grabs something from his bedside drawer, and it’s not until he’s back on the bed and fumbling with the packet in his hand that she realises it’s a dental dam. He spreads it carefully over her before he settles down into the mattress, his hands sliding down the backs of her legs to her knees and pulling them onto his shoulders. She crosses her ankles behind his back as he grins up at her, and then he leans down and licks a firm stripe right over her clit.

“Oh, _fuck.”_ Her thighs clamp tighter around his ears as they start to tremble but Jake doesn’t seem to object, just wraps one hand around her hip to hold her in place as he begins to lick her in earnest. And god, it’s been six months since anything other than her own hand or vibrator touched her and she’s sure anything would feel good after that drought, but Jake eats her out like he’s getting as much out of it as she is; the hand that isn’t on her hip slides up her stomach, stroking surprisingly gentle along her skin as she gulps in shuddering breaths between her cries. Her body is trying to buck up into his tongue but he’s holding her firm and _fuck,_ it’s so hot being held down seemingly effortlessly, unable to do anything other than let him make her feel good. 

It feels like no time at all before she feels her orgasm building, but on the other hand her voice is hoarse and her breath is coming in short pants so really she has no idea how long Jake’s head has been trapped between her thighs when she finally fists her hands in his sheets and wails her way through the most spectacular orgasm she’s had in a long time. His tongue gentles her through the aftershocks, not stopping until she sinks bonelessly back into the mattress, her legs finally dropping down onto the bed and releasing him.

“Oh my god.” She has to force the words out through the ringing in her ears, and Jake chuckles as he carefully pulls the dental dam off and tosses it into the wastebin next to his bed. He presses a languid kiss to her hip bone, and she shivers under the sensation.

“Just give me two minutes to remember how to move my body, and then I really want you to fuck me.” 

Jake laughs, relaxed and unhurried as he flops down beside her and trails his fingers gently along her sternum. “Take your time.”

“I don’t want to take my time.” Rachel loves getting fucked right after she’s come, always has, so she musters up all the energy she can and rolls so she’s on top of him, pulling a startled laugh out of him as his hands come to her hips to balance her. She grinds down into him, just once, groaning when she feels how hard he is even through the layer of denim and god, why is he still so _dressed?_ She wriggles her way down to the foot of the bed and then reaches back up to unzip his fly, tugging them and his underwear off in one smooth-ish motion. His cock springs free and Rachel licks her lips almost unconsciously; he’s thick, and long, and _fuck_ she wants to ride that dick.

Jake fumbles in his bedside drawer again, this time pulling out a condom that he rips open with practised ease before rolling it over himself. As soon as it’s on she crawls up the bed and flings a leg over his hip, lining up his dick and sinking down onto it as slowly as she can bear. 

“God, Rachel.” Her name is honey on his tongue and he pulls himself upright, hands tangling in her hair as he kisses her messily before sliding them down her back to the clasp of her bra. “Can I— do you mind if I take this off?”

“Please.” She kisses him again while he unhooks the clasp, sliding the straps over her shoulders before dropping the bra on the floor next to the bed. As soon as he’s let it go his hand finds its way back to her breast, rolling her nipple gently between thumb and forefinger and making her gasp as she finally starts to move.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He lets her set the pace as she slides up and down on his cock, replacing his fingers with his lips as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, worrying it between his teeth. The barest hint of pain is delicious and she arches up into it as he brings his hand to her other breast, squeezing gently and then pinching. His free hand roams up and down her back almost aimlessly, leaving a trail of fire behind it as Rachel aches for more of his touch, more of his kisses, more, more, more.

Eventually he lets her breast slip out of his mouth and brings both hands to her hips, gripping her tight and thrusting up into her so that she has to bring her hands to his shoulders to keep herself steady.

“Do you think you could come again?”

She knows she could; can feel it simmering somewhere deep inside her, not urgent but easily tapped into. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” He lets go of her hip with one hand and splays it across her stomach, thumb on her clit. “I was distracted last time, and I want to see just how gorgeous you are when you come for me.”

Rachel squeezes her eyes shut against the sudden well of emotion rising up in her, releasing a deep shuddering breath as his thumb starts to circle her clit. She grips his shoulders and ignores the burn in her thighs as she rides him, aided now by the way he cants his hips up to meet her thrust for thrust, and it’s not long before she can feel the orgasm building.

“Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake—” She’s lost everything but his name and his dick inside her and his thumb keeping up its relentless rhythm as she comes, her head thrown back as it ricochets through her. She’s still shuddering through the aftershocks when the hand that’s still on her hip tenses, his grip tightening as he pushes up into her once more with a loud groan.

* * *

When Rachel blinks awake the next morning, it takes her a moment to remember where she is before a hand brushes across her stomach as she shifts in the bed, and the memories of last night come flooding back to her in a rush.

She hadn’t actually meant to fall asleep here, not with a motel room she actually paid for just a short cab ride away. But after he’d disposed of the condom Jake had wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lazily, and after not one but two truly mind blowing orgasms she must have dozed off that way. 

She slips quietly out of the bed and finds her underwear on the floor, pulling it on before picking up her jeans. Her phone is in her back pocket, thankfully still with some battery, and she sucks in a quick breath when she realises it’s already nearly 9am. She has to get back to the motel and checkout, and then she’s got a six hour drive home, and— 

“Morning.” When she looks up Jake is watching her, one arm tucked behind his head as he rakes his eyes up and down her body and she realises with a jolt she hasn’t put her bra on yet. “You sure you need to rush out? Or can you stay a little longer?”

God, she’s tempted. She’s so tempted. “I wish, but I really need to get back to the motel so I can checkout and get on the road, sorry.”

“Well let me give you a ride to the motel, at least.” 

Rachel nods slowly. “Sure.”

They get dressed in relative silence and once she’s ready to go, she follows Jake out of his apartment and down to the parking area where she finds herself clambering into a red truck. To her surprise, once they’ve pulled onto the street Jake’s hand comes to rest on her thigh and she lets it sit there until they park up outside the motel. She’s relieved that there’s no sign of Alexis or David, or anyone else that was witness to her humiliation last night, and she quickly unbuckles her seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride. And for… everything.” 

He smiles at her, free and easy. “Thank _you,_ Rachel. I had a great night. Look me up next time you’re in town, won’t you?”

She almost says _I won’t be back._ But her mind flashes back to Patrick last night, tripping over himself to apologise, saying _you were my best friend before anything else, and I never wanted to hurt you,_ and she thinks… maybe. Maybe one day she’ll be able to come back here. Maybe one day they’ll be okay.

“You know what? I’ll do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> If this fic made you ship it, doingthemost wrote a Jake/Rachel that's loosely set in the same universe as this and it's INCREDIBLE. [Give it a read!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342320).
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


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